The horizon, sitting at the edge of the world with that deceptive self-importance, as if it was real.
Houses.
Freedom; forgetting.
Rivers.
Once, at eye-level and up-close, a copper-red ant making its laborious way along a tree branch, carrying a crumb of something almost certainly not worth the trouble.
Things Ichigo never learnt to deal with gracefully
His dad.
Topless women.
Goodbyes.
Things Renji always secretly believed
That Rukia would leave.
That he meant every damn thing he said.
That Kuchiki Byakuya was faking it. (It was never clear what exactly it was.)
That fish would taste like taiyaki: this was a fresh disappointment every time.
That the shades were actually useful in battle.
That things would get better.
That she would come back.
The one thing that was true that nobody ever really believed about Byakuya, except himself, and maybe that one other person
It wasn't rebellion for the sake of rebellion. It wasn't an assertion of his position in the House, or a test of his power as the heir. It was, simply, that one day he had found what he had not realised he wanted: he had looked up and seen an equal, a companion -- in short, he had loved her.